


Give me all the joys (even the most secret)

by Vracs



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, Romance, Soft Girlfriends, cannot get over these two and their perfect love, foxxay - Freeform, it's cordelia's birthday, major fluff, misty is a hopeless romantic, misty pulls out all the stops, she thinks no one knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 07:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17483603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vracs/pseuds/Vracs
Summary: Cordelia's used to not being celebrated on her birthday so when it finally happens, she doesn't see it coming.





	Give me all the joys (even the most secret)

**Author's Note:**

> Title inspired by Neruda

_Give me_  
_all the joys,_  
_even the most secret,_  
_because otherwise_  
_how will these things be known?_

 

Today is her birthday.

Besides Zoe, Queenie, Madison and a few others, her girls are none the wiser and Cordelia prefers to keep it that way. Since childhood, Fiona had never much bothered to honour her daughter and Cordelia had grown up treating this day like any other, oftentimes scolded for playing with her yet unharnessed magic and later, in highschool, berated for outstaying her curfew or letting one of her girlfriends treat her to dinner. It wasn't until Hank came into her life that she finally understood what it meant to live out of the shadows, to be celebrated and adored, however briefly, until even that was taken from her.

Now she wakes up before sun-up, using the quiet dawn hours to finish paperwork before the house comes to life and steals her attention away.

She's already dressed and on her second cup of coffee when Zoe meets her in the kitchen, two hours before the start of the academic day. A small gift wrapped in delicate turqoise ribbon slides across the countertop, accompanied by Zoe's apologetic smile.

"I know you said no gifts but - we wanted to," she shrugs, hiding behind a curtain of hair, "to thank you, for everything you've done for us."

Cordelia feels her vision blur with tears she quickly blinks away, touching Zoe's hand gently before feeling the weight of the present, of Zoe's attentiveness, rest inside her palm. She takes great care to unwrap it, using the fingernail of her thumb to slice through the scotch tape and avoid ripping the edges.

Inside the small white box is a gold, thumb-print sized brooch in the shape of a pink carnation. She holds it lightly between her fingers, chest constricting as a thick fist of emotion settles in her throat. Her brows pinch together and she feels Zoe move to stand by her side, touching her shoulder with a comforting hand.

"It's a carnation - it means _'a mother's love'_ ," Zoe explains, telling Cordelia sheepishly that Misty did help her with the research, that they'd spent late hours in the greenhouse, books strewn across the floor in search of the flower that would hold the most meaning. "And you're like a mom, to all of us. You might not believe it Cordelia, but it's so clear how much you love us - _all_ the girls - and it doesn't go unseen. The whole academy _adores_ you," she smiles, watching carefully as Cordelia's eyes continue to swim, "I don't think we tell you enough. Maybe this will be a good reminder."

Cordelia nods, lip held tightly between her teeth. "Thank you," she croaks and thinks of her mother, of her cutting words and her putrid cigarette smoke; and of Hank, of his lies and his leavings and the times he broke her heart. The memories still smart beneath her skin like stinging nettles. She wonders how much longer before they fade.

She lets Zoe help her pin the brooch just beneath the collar of her dress. It glints warmly back up at her and makes a start on soothing her old scars.

She doesn't get a chance to thank Zoe again before the kitchen is being flooded with students and the smell of quickly brewing coffee and a concoction of breakfasts. There is an overwhelming crescendo of everyday life; Cordelia revels in the chitchat of her oblivious girls and the sounds that follow them: the whirring of the microwave, the coffee machine, the click of the toaster. She allows herself to get lost in it a moment at a time, then slips away unnoticed to her study, mug and pastry in hand.

She almost drops the two when Madison greets her at the door. There's a pained look of permanent exhasperation on her face.

Impatiently, she shoves something at Cordelia and rolls her eyes when she realises both of Cordelia's hands are otherwise occupied. With a scoff, she helps open Cordelia's door and throws the parcel across her desk, turning quickly on her heel before embarrassment can make a home there, a final, "Queenie made me do it!" tossed over her shoulder as she rounds the corner and disappears from view.

Cordelia sets her breakfast down to unwrap her second gift of the day, a little flaberghasted, hoping for the best but expecting a disaster. She's entirely surprised to find a small card resting on top of three books - a collection of poems by Neruda, and two Dickens classics. The words on her card are written in elegant script that only Madison could execute, and Queenie's playful scrawl mars the bottom right corner along with a heart.

_'Because you insist on boring us with this shit. Happy birthday.'_

The sound of Madison's berating voice brings a smile to her face. She smooths a finger over the embossed pages of her first book and lays the lot in the middle of her desk, promising to make a few hours for them later in the day.

Her lessons go quickly.

Aside from some flowers from a keen young newcomer in her telekinesis class, and a quick visit from Myrtle during lunch, Cordelia flies relatively low and looks forward to settling in for the night to enjoy her gifts. She spares a noisy recess to brood over Misty and briefly wonders why she's been missing all morning. Secretly, she'd wished for Misty to remember her special day, though Cordelia can't quite recall ever telling her or making a point of it. Nonetheless, a tiny sliver of her had hoped.

She casually asks Zoe about it just before dinner, only to receive an uncharacteristic, non-committal shrug. The fact that she isn't even invited to pizza night despite usually being sous-chef to Queenie's expert hands, hurts her feelings and also raises suspicion.

It isn't until she comes down to the kitchen that evening and is instantly shooed away from the rear door of the house that her patience begins to wear thin and she backs Madison into a corner.

"Okay, _what's_ going on?"

"Something up your ass, Cordy?" Madison sneers, looking pointedly to Queenie for help, except Queenie's wrist-deep in dough and staring at it like it might come to life.

"Why is everyone-"

Misty bursts through the door then, shouting, "It's ready!" before her mouth can fall open to Cordelia's presence. " _Oh,_ Miss 'Delia!"

"Misty, what are you-"

"Oh shit, shit, _shit_ ," Zoe interjects, putting herself between them and gently guiding Cordelia until her body is turned away from the glass doors, obscuring her view. She looks at Misty helplessly but Misty only grins.

"'s alright, it's ready anyway!"

Zoe gives a visible sigh of relief and lifts a lilac blindfold towards Cordelia in question. Cordelia sizes it up, in half a mind to decline whatever awaits her, but Misty is staring at her with wide, excited eyes and she can do nothing but let that feeling wash over her too, reluctantly succumbing to the smooth sensation of velvet tying around her eyes. "Misty's been working on something - a surprise. She didn't want you to know."

Cordelia's heart kick-starts in her chest and the valleys between her fingers begin to tingle with nerves. _Misty's surprise._ She finds herself breathless at the mention of Misty's name, at her vision going black, at the feel of ringed hands on her shoulders and then on her wrists.

"I got you, Miss 'Delia." Misty's voice is light and happy, and _God_ , if Cordelia doesn't love that sound more than anything.

Misty leads her slowly through the doors in gentle, backward strides and with her eyes closed, Cordelia can almost picture that they're in some variation of a dance, that she's being waltzed across the threshold and into the greenhouse. She remembers three years back when she'd had her second sight, and she lingers on how Misty had been one of the far and few to hold her with ease, to not hesitate or fear her, touching her at every opportunity - a palm on her elbow, fingers in her hair, a thumb to her cheek, much like she's doing now.

She smiles. Because this time, her momentary blindness is a willing, reversible choice and she can look at Misty whenever she pleases.

The sticky, hothouse smell engulfs her as soon as they step inside. Fleetingly, she worries that her hair might frizz, but Misty's laughing at her and pulling her in deeper and Cordelia forgets to feel anything but happy.

"When can I-" she gestures vaguely to her blindfold and leans into the warmth of Misty's body as it moves up behind her, fingers undoing the tie in one smooth motion so it falls to her feet.

Misty tells her shyly, "You can look now."

The vision brings an instant sting to the backs of her eyes and an overwhelming feeling of being cared for, of being thought of, Cordelia can't quite stop her fingertips from trembling as they rest by her sides, in the soft material of her skirt.

"Misty."

Misty's face is a picture of adoration and a little bit of pride, blue eyes glistening in the pale evening light.

"D'you like it?"

There are tens of hundreds of small fairy lights dusting the tops of the canopy, twinkling through each leaf in honey-hues and caramels - Misty has threaded them through the stems and branches, littering them along the ground and up the walls like ivy. She can hear Fleetwood Mac, _of course_ , permeating from the background, and Misty does a small hop as she watches her take it all in.

"Misty, I-" she chokes. There is little holding her back from sobbing, she tries to clear her throat before the tears can fall for the second time that day, "Did you - Did you do this for me?"

Misty takes her hand and guides her towards the picnic blanket she had set up adjacent to Cordelia's work desk. There are small cushions scattered there and a couple of candles on the floor, protected in little glass lanterns. Misty had also remembered to pack plates and cutlery, though Cordelia notes with a smirk, there is no food in sight.

"As far as I know, ain't nobody else got a birthday today," Misty beams at her as they sit down. Cordelia recognises the look Misty gives her - a playful, knowing thing, as if to say _'did you seriously think I'd forget?'_ and Cordelia's heart continues to hammer in its constraints, threatening to burst right in front of her and give itself over to Misty only. _As if Misty didn't have it already._

She shakes her head and laughs. She can't remember the last time it happened so often, it almost makes her feel strange.

"I don't know what to say." _'Thank you', 'You're wonderful', 'I love you'._ The words muddle in her head and translate into, "No one's ever done something like this for me before".

Misty reaches over, palm up and waiting for Cordelia to place her own against it. Their fingers tangle. Cordelia can feel Misty's healing magic bleed into her own - waves of it trickle up her forearm and through her lungs, making it both easier and harder to breathe. It courses through her to leave her aching and giddy, she's pretty sure Misty can sense her racing pulse because she nods empathetically and leans a little bit closer.

Cordelia thinks that maybe Misty is about to kiss her, but when their noses brush, Misty tells her, "Queenie's bringin' us pizza," and tilts her head towards the door where Queenie, as if on queue, pokes her head round with with two plates in hand.

"Evening, ladies," she says, posture straight, a teatowel flung over her forearm as she nurses a schooled expression, "Thank you for dining with us this evening. I will be your waitress tonight."

They both laugh. Misty swats Queenie on the backside after she's placed the food in front of them and turned to leave, morphing into herself again.

"Yo, holla at me if y'all need anything else, got it?" she holds up a peace sign as a parting gift.

Cordelia wonders if there are any more quirks to this evening. She relishes the way Misty looks tonight - her eyes are smudged with coal and her indigo dress compliments her in the most wonderful way - and marvels at how she'd managed to pull all this off undetected whilst under the same roof.

"You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

Misty nods around a messy bite of pizza - she hadn't waited on Cordelia to start and half of a slice is already gone. She manages a strangled _'yeah'_ and Cordelia isn't surprised to realise that, _yes,_ though Misty is the epitome of chivalry, she is a glutton first and foremost and lucky for her, Cordelia finds her eating habits entirely endearing and absolutely adorable.

She makes Cordelia tell her all about her day, listening devotedly over another slice as Cordelia talks about her lessons, about the gift Zoe gave her from the rest of the girls, about Madison and Queenie's books. She even tells her about the paperwork she'd filed away that morning because Misty absorbs her words greedily and in doing so, teaches Cordelia what it means to be completely listened to. Her cerulean gaze never leaves Cordelia's moving mouth, flickering between it and Cordelia's eyes in worship. It's not the first time Misty's looked at her like this - it happens whenever they talk, makes Cordelia's cheeks flush crimson and the rest of her flush with delicious warmth.

When they finish, Misty wipes her greasy hands on a napkin and scoots to Cordelia's side.

"I got you somethin'."

Cordelia wants to protest - hours ago, she'd been expecting to spend the night alone, in her bed, surrounded by books and complete quiet. A part of her had hoped that maybe Misty would knock on her door at some point, to say goodnight at least, to share a late night tea on the porch like they were prone to do. She hadn't dreamed that Misty could and would spend the entire day planning something for her, because it meant that Misty had spent the entire day thinking of her and the entire day looking forward to spending time alone with her. She shakes her head and lays her cards on the table. "You're here, I don't want anything else". _I wished for you. You're the thing that I wanted._

Misty touches her cheek lightly.

There must be telepathy between them because she's taking a chain from the pocket of her dress and dangling it through her fingers, explaining to Cordelia that Zoe had helped her look for the pendant. She tells Cordelia that the necklace carries a protection spell and that Misty had studied really hard to master the art of enchantment, explaining that in holding it, the amulet would show Cordelia every moment they'd ever shared.

"I made all my best memories with you. When I was down on my luck, you were the first person to see me for who I really am. You ain't ever judged me or made me feel unwanted, you always make time for me and I know I can always turn to you. You prob'ly don't believe it, but I believe for the both of us, I know when I say that you are the most brave, kind, smart woman I ever met. I _swear_ it. I was gon' make you a scrapbook of all the good times you gave to me but I reckon this might be more practical, don't feel you got to wear it or nothin' but if you did feel like wearin' it, or if somethin's ever scarin' you or you ever get lonely..." she trails off because Cordelia's reaching for her gift reverently and motioning for Misty to help clasp it around her neck. The instant she wraps her fingers around it, images flash though her mind's eye.

She sees dozens of shared moments: Misty's hand in hers for the first time, reading to Misty on late nights in her shack, lazy Sunday mornings downtown, Misty's fingers on her tearful cheeks, hours spent in the greenhouse together, coaxing Misty from her nightmares, clasped hands on movie nights and picnics and walks around the swamp. The reel stutters on until Cordelia lets her hand drop to her side, reaching breathlessly for Misty instead. 

She's dizzy, like she's just stepped off a carousel. She leans into Misty and lets strong hands steady her. She knows no words are going to do justice to how she feels so she moves to Misty's face, taking it in her palms to study her. There are worry lines around Misty's eyes, like she thinks she's done something wrong, except she hasn't, not at all, and Cordelia tells her so with the press of her mouth against Misty's own. Misty's lips yield instantly, soft and pliant under Cordelia's touch and she feels so light in that moment, like nothing can hurt her, moving to accomodate as Misty falls into her eagerly with careful hands on her neck and soft breaths against her cheek.

When they break apart, Misty's eyes are glassy and her lips are swollen and Cordelia stares at her for a long while to make sure this is real. She doesn't dwell on it too much before she's being kissed again, on the corner of her mouth and then her cheek and jaw.

All she can smell is patchouli and lavender on Misty's skin, the only thing she feels are Misty's fingertips tickling at her hairline and the base of her neck and then creeping over the curves of her shoulders and down her arms. They come to rest over Cordelia's hands, lifting them to Misty's mouth as it traverses over each knuckle, one by one. Misty finishes her kisses with a pair placed inside each of Cordelia's palms. Cordelia watches her eyes close and she cradles Misty's face.

"Happy birthday, Miss Delia," Misty tells her secretly, breathing out a deep, content sigh.

Cordelia's heart almost breaks with it, with gratitude to this gift, to Misty, to being enlisted with something so sweet and powerful she doesn't quite have a name for but it lingers nonetheless on the tip of her tongue. She kisses Misty's forehead and lets their noses brush.

"It's not over yet," she smiles, nestling into Misty's side. She wonders whether Queenie made them dessert, then giggles indulgently to herself when she realises that tonight, she most definitely won't be needing any.


End file.
